


Why a Child Cries

by Rosa_Cotton



Series: Why a Child... [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt Aragorn, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Sad, Sneaking Around, Thorongil - Freeform, Waking Up, Worry, Young Eowyn, visits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2315708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosa_Cotton/pseuds/Rosa_Cotton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris sneaks her charge through the sleeping Meduseld to pay someone a late night visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why a Child Cries

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _The Lord of the Rings_ , all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.

Iris looks about with a mixture of unease and guilt. How did she let herself be talked into this…? She pulls her cloak closer with one hand and tightens her hold on Lady Éowyn’s hand with the other. 

Both tiptoe silently down the deserted, dimly lighted corridors. Iris continues to look about, fearful of being caught as she leads the child along. She shall be in such dreadful trouble. But she cannot refuse her charge this, she realizes, as she sees Éowyn wipe tears from her face with her free hand. Iris’s heart goes out to the girl.

She relaxes a little when at last they reach their destination. Glancing about a final time to make certain they are alone, she knocks softly on a door. A moment later, the door is opened by a middle-aged woman who nods to Iris before giving Éowyn a pitiful look. She ushers the two in before closing the door. 

Éowyn clings to Iris’s hand as they slowly move forward. She trembles and sniffs. She stares with confusion and fear at Thorongil, who lies motionless and pale on a small bed. It is strange to the girl to see him so still and lifeless. His eyes are closed, and she can barely see the rise and fall of his chest. The child bites her lip as she takes in the bandage around his head. 

Freeing her hand from Iris’s grasp, she steps to the edge of the bed. Gently she shakes his shoulder without drawing a response. “Thorongil?” she says in a near whisper. “Thorongil…” she repeats, louder. 

The man remains unconscious, unaware of the girl’s calling and shaking him. 

“Thorongil, you promised to give me and Éomer a piggyback ride,” Éowyn says brokenly. “You need to wake up. Please!” She faces the woman and her nurse. “Why won’t he wake up?” she demands, tears trickling down her cheeks. 

“Lady Éowyn, Lord Thorongil is…” Iris trails off, unable to offer comfort to the child. 

The girl whirls around and throws herself half on the bed, breaking into sobs. She places her hand in Thorongil’s, which rests on top of the covers. When Iris places a hand on her shoulder, Éowyn shakes it off, continuing to cry uncontrollably as she calls to her friend in between gasps. 

The two women stand back and lower their gaze. Tears well up in their eyes as they listen to the child’s crying and pleadings. For a long while that is the only sound which fills the room. 

Éowyn hiccups and raises her head. Tears still streaming down her face, she sniffs and frowns in puzzlement. Her eyes are drawn to where her hand rests in Thorongil’s, and she stares with disbelief as slowly his fingers close over hers. Shaking, she looks in wonder on Thorongil’s face and at first sees no change. But then she sees his mouth barely open, and a soft rasp escapes. Gasping, she leans closer to him. 

“Don’t cry, little Éowyn,” the words barely reach out to her. 

She gapes, caught between hope and fear that it is only her imagination playing tricks on her. But, oh, so slowly, his head turns, and his eyes crack open. 

“Thorongil!” Éowyn says, a smile lighting her face while her body shakes with her crying. She is unaware of the excitement developing behind her, of the door opening and closing swiftly. She is only aware that her friend is awake and a smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. 

“My Lady,” Iris places an insisting hand on the girl’s arm. “We should leave now. The healers will be in to tend to him.” She begins to draw her charge back from the bed. 

“No!” Éowyn shouts desperately, her face filled with wild fear. 

“Please!” Thorongil begs, his voice laced with pain as he tightens his hold on Éowyn’s small hand. 

At once Iris releases the child at these unexpected outbursts. Éowyn scampers back onto the edge of the bed. The panic in Thorongil’s face subsides as he watches her. Silently she cradles his hand, holding his gaze. 

Pausing for a moment, Iris steps outside the room to warn the healers not to disturb the two. If anything, having Lady Éowyn near seems to be the best medicine for Lord Thorongil at the moment. 

THE END


End file.
